Follow After Me
by DigiExpert
Summary: Part of my young!Aaeru series. Aaeru's grandfather receives custody of his granddaughter and begins to learn how to care for her. In the process, he shows her pieces of his life that will become intertwined with hers.


**The idea for this all began because silverzephyr13 of LJ wrote a set of Aaeru drabbles for me to thank me for all of my contributions to the fandom. In turn, it has inspired me to do a series of stories that focus on various points in Aaeru's life before the Arcus Prima. The idea is to do 4 stories in time order, and this is the very first one. It was rather interesting to write, and I think it ties up a few loose ends from the show as well. Enjoy!**

He gently cradled the small baby in his arms. She had fallen asleep, and he hadn't the heart to try and put her to bed so that she could rest there. He feared she might wake if she were jostled, and he'd spent the last half hour trying to settle her in. She hadn't come with much in the way of belongings; there hadn't been many left after the fire. He only had what the neighbors had given him from their supply of baby clothing and other supplies. The neighbors had left it with him when they dropped the baby off, giving bits and pieces of advice. He still wasn't quite sure he was capable of caring for a baby on his own. It'd been so long since his own child had toddled across the wooden floors of the cabin that he feared he was a little more than rusty.

Moving to the rocking chair he'd placed near the window, he sat down slowly, joints creaking some as he did. The little one stirred, but did not wake. He rocked her gently, staring off across the landscape. In the distance were the rows of fields, the crops he'd planted for the year, the ones he hoped would bring a bountiful harvest. Only Tempus Spatium could grant him that blessing, which he prayed for on temple days.

Tempus Spatium had also decided he was the most suitable caretaker for the child in his arms. He was one of the few family members she had left; no one else that had lived near her parents wanted yet another child to feed and cloth. The task had fallen on him or the child would be sent to an orphanage. He would not let that happen to a member of his family, certainly not his daughter's only child.

Sighing heavily, he looked across the fields, remembering how he'd been weeding out some nasty pests when a messenger had delivered the news of the fire. The home had burned quickly in the night, the flames licking at the dry wood and flammable material. The little one had only been saved by a neighbor, who had risked his life to check for survivors. His own daughter and her husband had been trapped by a beam on their way to escape, and they burned to death before anyone could rescue them.

As the news of the fire spread, the little one had been cared for by various neighbors. It was thought she wouldn't make it through. She had suffered a few small burns, but nothing too life threatening or scarring. The funeral had passed and the child had cried through the ceremony. Perhaps she understood what was happening deep inside in a way only babies know. He wasn't quite sure himself.

The child yawned softly, drawing his attention away from the past. He looked down as her eyes opened, and bright green orbs looked back at him. She had the largest eyes he'd seen on a baby, and a crop of straw blonde hair atop her head. She resembled her mother in every way, and he smiled sadly at the thought. Tiny hands reached up and he stood her on his lap. If what he'd been told was correct, she was six months old. She gurgled as he bounced her lightly on his lap.

"You like that, don't you, Aaeru?" he said to her softly. She couldn't answer him back, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world to speak with her. Had it really been so long since he'd raised Nemin? It seemed as though Nemin's baby days were far beyond his memory's grasp. He saw fuzzy images and scenes that he could only remember partial bits from, but there she was in his arms. The images disappeared and he saw Aaeru once again before his eyes.

"I wonder where your mother got such a pretty name. It seems like I should know it… but I don't. Maybe it was in one of her books." Nemin had been known for her love of books, which she used to help her excel as a Sibylla. Her thirst for knowledge was unmatched by anyone in her Chor, and also had lent itself to getting them out of a jam many times. He remembered the stories she used to tell him.

"I'm sure you're hungry. You've not eaten yet. You'll have to excuse your grandpa if he doesn't fix your bottle right. He hasn't cared for a baby since your mother was little."

Rising from the rocking chair, he carried the little one with him into the kitchen. He struggled to heat the water for a bottle and hold on to her, but in the end, he managed it with only a few spills here and there. She latched greedily on to the bottle, sucking it down, and he began to wonder if perhaps she should be eating something else. He wasn't sure. His wife had been the one to take care of that aspect of child care. The quick advice hadn't mentioned anything about diet.

Changing her diaper became an adventure in itself. The cloth would not stay where he put it, and she kicked and babbled as he attempted to correct his mistakes. His first attempt made the diaper much too loose and it slide down her legs. Once again he worked to pin it just right, finally achieving the desired result.

"I think your grandpa needs to learn quite a lot, doesn't he?" he asked her as he picked her up once more. "Let's go outside. I'll show you around."

He hoisted Aaeru up so that she could see. They visited the many areas around the farm. He showed her the field and told her what crops he had planted for the year. He then told her of harvest plans and how he planned to sell the vegetables to make enough money to survive through the rest of the year and make repairs around the farm. They visited the nearby stream and he told her some of his best fishing stories.

The very last spot they visited was the large shed. It was locked tight with a pad lock to make sure no one was able to slip inside. He pulled the key from his pocket and slipped it into the lock. A resounding _click_ was heard as the lock opened.

"I have something special in here. I've had it ever since the day I became a Sibylla. It was a gift to me from my parents."

Aaeru rested her head against his shoulder. She hid her face as the door opened, creaking loudly. The noise didn't please her and she began to fuss. Unsure of what to try, he bounced her in his arms, but that only made things worse. She began to cry loudly, the sound echoing off the walls of the building.

"Maybe you'll stop if you see what's inside."

He entered the building. In the center was the Simile, polished and gleaming. He took careful care of it, inspecting the mechanics every year and flying it so that it wouldn't merely sit idle to rust. He reached out, touching the cool metal. Aaeru still cried and he bounced her before taking her tiny hand in his large one and touching it to the metal as well. For a moment, the sobs stopped as Aaeru took in the new sensation she felt. Her cries then softened.

"You'll like the Simile, Aaeru. With it, you can touch the sky, and explore lands that no one has ever seen before."

With ease he climbed into the cockpit, and sat Aaeru on his lap. Aaeru was only sniffling now. Locking the hatch, he started the engine, and it thrummed beneath them. Within moments he had guided it out of the building and into the sky.

"Do you see it, Aaeru? Look where we are." He picked Aaeru up, holding her high enough to see out the glass. Green eyes searched the sky, taking in all the sensations above and below. She babbled and gurgled, raising a fist.

"You'll be up here one day on your own. It's in your blood. You come from a family of accomplished Sibyllae. You'll learn to fly just as the others have before you."

The cooing he took as Aaeru's agreement to his statement. He guided the craft with ease through the air, continuing to tell Aaeru about her family's history as Sibyllae. It wouldn't be the first time and certainly not the last time that he'd relate the story to her.

That evening, he tucked Aaeru into bed. She fussed, not familiar with sleeping in this new place alone. She simply didn't want to sleep. She reached out, and nothing would console her. He was unsure as to what to try to make her sleep. His eyes lit about the small round box upon the dresser. He retrieved it and returned to Aaeru.

"I have something that might help you sleep, Aaeru."

He pressed the latch that would open the box and it snapped up. He blew gently, and the tune began to waft on the breeze. He would always swear that in that moment, Aaeru cocked her head and listened. Her sobs died down as the tune continued to play. Her eyes grew heavy and she reached for the music box. Halfway there, her hand fell back to her side as she drifted into a gentle breeze. The tune was a lullaby to her, a melody of wonderful things unknown.

Slowly the tune began to end, but by the time it did, Aaeru was fast asleep. He smiled at her, and returned the music box to the dresser. He took one last look at his granddaughter before closing the door behind him; some day, he'd tell her the meaning behind the song and share his own dreams.


End file.
